Love Letter
by elspeth20
Summary: This TLD short story represents my first real foray into the romance genre! Explore the budding relationship between Elsa and Odette Marie Novare in this fun deviation set between Arc One and Arc Two of Trials of Light and Darkness! Warning to new readers: very dense on OCs, and (obviously) describes a same-sex romance. If you're uncomfortable with either, stop at the door.
1. Chapter 1

Love Letter

A Trials of Light and Darkness Story

xxx

Author's Note:

Welcome to _Love Letter,_ the next TLD short story! This one dives a bit deeper into the genesis of Elsa and Novare's relationship, set in the space between Arc One and Arc Two of Trials of Light and Darkness. If you haven't read any of my fanfictions before, you can definitely still enjoy _Love Letter,_ but the amount of OCs might seem a little dense and intimidating at first. It's a volume that gets built up over time in the long-length novels, but I can appreciate that it would seem a little overwhelming for someone jumping in here. For that reason, I'd recommend reading Arc One of Trials of Light and Darkness first, and then returning to this.

For returning fans, thanks for sticking with me! I hope you enjoy!

xxx

Chapter One

 _The rich ones want it, the wise ones know it, the poor ones need it, and the kind ones show it._

* * *

The Royal Palace,

Arendelle

November 21st, 1842

Elsa shuffled the top paper in the sheaf to the back, eyes rapidly scanning the bulky document. Her magistrates sat assembled around the round table in the blue room, the traditional chamber in which Arendelle's monarch met with the assembled Magistrates' Council. Her lips moved slightly and silently as she read to herself. Odette glanced away and met Charles Vander's eyes across the table. The oldest member of the council gripped a cigar in the side of his mouth, and he patted around his chest, looking for a matchbook to give himself a light. He inclined his head slightly to Odette, indicating a level of respect that she wasn't sure the other members of the council had afforded her yet.

Odette was new to this. A recent university graduate in political science and law, the bright young girl was certainly educated well-enough for her current position on the queen's most trusted board of advisors, but she was young. Barely twenty-six, Odette was less than half the age of any other member of the Magistrate's Council; and, as if her youth wasn't enough, she'd only been appointed in the first place because of the untimely death of their former colleague, Agatha Merke. Her position of influence with the queen was a cause for pause for many who thought her too green. Odette wasn't exactly sure how she could prove them wrong.

"Who wrote this?" Elsa said, rearranging the sheaf of papers and tapping it on the desk.

"That would be me, your majesty," Shermish Halloway answered, leaning forwards a bit excitably. "I think that you'll find the position quite –"

"What is your job, Mr. Halloway?" Elsa asked. Though her voice wasn't unkind, Odette felt a sudden and irrational urge to take cover somewhere.

"Excuse me?" The portly counselor replied, frowning.

"I said _what is your job,_ Mr. Halloway." Elsa dropped the sheaf of papers onto the table.

"Um, I – I'm an associate magistrate, your majesty. I've sat on the Magistrate's Council for fifteen years. I don't understand your question."

Elsa stood up, casting her imperious gaze about the table. Those half-lidded eyes made Odette squirm a little. "Ah, good. You'll forgive me the mistake of thinking that someone took it upon themselves to make you my new communications director."

"Your majesty?" Halloway looked about to the other magistrates, still unsure why he was being berated. Namar Sadden coolly returned his gaze.

"Your _job,_ Mr. Halloway," Elsa said, "is to provide counsel to your queen when it is called upon. I do not, on the other hand, need you to write a _statement_ for me on the estate tax! Especially one that runs so counter to my own position on the matter!"

"My queen, it is a _trivial_ matter," Halloway spluttered, face red. "The mere fact that the monarch _gives_ a yearly address discussing the possible institution of an estate tax is little more than symbolism. Your father promised the sailor's guild that he would consider the taxes, but he never intended –"

"Seeing as my father is neither in this room nor alive, at the moment," Elsa said sarcastically, "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that his word doesn't hold any weight around here anymore."

"Queen Elsa," Namar Sadden said, finally coming to Halloway's aid, who seemed to audibly breathe a sigh of relief, "Expressly reversing your father's position on the matter would be seen as a breach of trust by a young and inexperienced queen. It would completely delegitimize your standing amongst some of Arendelle's wealthiest citizens."

"You'll excuse me if I care little how my favorability numbers run among the twenty men in this city rich enough to own eighty percent of the buildings. The tax revenue would open dozens of schools. It's not a tough debate."

"They would be powerful enemies, your majesty," Charles Vander said, puffing on his cigar.

"Last time I checked, gentlemen, we don't live in a country with fair and free elections. Last time I checked, I can piss off whoever the hell I want, and they can't do a damn thing about it."

The temperature in the room had gotten noticeably cooler. Odette was staring at her hands. Elsa had wound her way back to the head of the table, which she leaned against with both of her hands flat against the table, spread wide. She looked very in-charge.

"I don't need you to try to talk me off of the estate tax," Elsa said, gaze sweeping around the table again. "And I don't want to see mention of it again. Now get the hell out of here."

She waved a hand dismissively, and the magistrates stood, their chairs scraping against the floor. As one, the magistrates murmured 'thank you, your majesty,' and shuffled out of the blue room, shoulders bowed.

Once they were a few steps down the hallway, Halloway spoke. "I was trying to take some work off her desk. I thought she might appreciate it."

Namar Sadden put a hand on Halloway's shoulder. "It's alright, Shermish. She's had a stressful week. Early talk about the platform isn't as positive as she would have liked. I'm sure she'll apologize to you later."

Halloway shook the hand away and stalked off, moody. Novare was just about to turn her separate way when Findlay Morrison called to her.

"Take a walk with me, Odette."

Odette nodded to him and fell into step alongside. "What's up?"

They started down the corridors of the palace, heading past an endless sea of expensive tapestries and paintings, dating back hundreds of years and kept in meticulously good shape by a dedicated staff of servants.

"You should know, beforehand, that Namar was the one who asked me to ask you –" They stepped around a matronly servant carrying a number of thick binders, and Findlay interrupted himself to greet her. "Gerda, it's wonderful to see you. I've been looking all over for you, actually. I was wondering if you could see to it that the July invoices are sent to my clerk."

"Yes, Mr. Morrison, I could have that done by the end of the day. He'll know what to do with them?"

"If he doesn't, then I'm not sure what I'm paying him for," Findlay said as they continued down the hall. "Thank you, Gerda."

"What did Namar Sadden ask you to ask me?" Odette prompted.

"Well, you see, I told him that it's generally not proper practice to give these sort of duties to a freshman magistrate, but he told me that we might as well float the idea and see how you respond."

"I don't have all day, Findlay," Odette said as they stepped into the west wing of the palace. She nodded to a low-level clerk rushing past with a sheaf of papers in his hands. She didn't know his name, but she saw him just about every day, and they were in the habit of nodding to each other. "What is it?"

"We'd like you to give the queen the list."

"The list?"

The west wing of the palace was the business end, and the bedrooms and smoking-chambers of the residence were replaced here with rather dull meeting rooms and offices. They turned now into Findlay's corner office, spacious compared to most of the other rooms, and well-lit by a large window. At Findlay's motion, Odette took a seat across from his desk and absently straightened a stack of papers as the counselor settled down across from her.

"Ah, yes. How silly of me; I didn't even consider that you wouldn't have been introduced to the list yet."

"I mean, I've seen plenty of lists since I started working here," Odette said, running a hand through her hair and wincing as she hit a snarl. She hadn't worn her hair down in a few days, and in the meanwhile hadn't brushed it much. She was in for a painful ten minutes when she finally got around to it. "But I assume that you're talking about something special."

"Quite special," Findlay said. He was interrupted as his secretary stepped into the doorway.

"Mr. Morrison?" She clasped her hands in front of herself, demurely.

"Captain Salvador is waiting for me in the east conference room," Findlay guessed.

"Actually, west conference. We had to move him; there are some courtsmen meeting the queen in the east conference room right now."

Findlay waved his hand. "Alright, give me five minutes. Go apologize to him for the wait and offer him something to drink."

"Yes, sir." The secretary ducked away, her heels clicking behind her.

"The list," Findlay said, turning back towards Odette, "Miss Novare, is the informal name that we've given to a collection of possible suitors for the queen."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we keep tabs on marriageable and prominent young men across Europe, and we collect their names in a list. Every month or so, one of us meets with the queen to talk about the men on the list, and to gently encourage her to seek a husband."

There were many reasons that the magistrates wished for Elsa to seek a husband, not least of which, that the senior counsellors believed that her fiery temper and radical agendas might tame themselves a bit if she were occupied with raising a family as well. To boot, a well-chosen suitor would help intertwine Arendelle with more powerful European nations and would most likely earn the little shipping nation a strong and reliable trade partner. Ever since they'd declared a formal embargo against the state of Weselton, they'd also lost the business of its allies, including several Balkan states and Russia. It would do well to replace them with something else.

"Why is it that you normally wouldn't let a junior counsellor do this?" Odette asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, you see," Findlay rubbed the back of his neck. "You remember how she responded to Shermish earlier, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, in the grand scheme of things, that was a rather light outburst for the queen," Findlay said. "She really doesn't enjoy being talked to about marriage."

"So you're saying that she's going to blow up at me if I bring up the list with her?"

"Why else do you think she hasn't been married yet?" Findlay said, sounding exhausted. "It certainly isn't for lack of marriageable and handsome young suitors, and it certainly isn't for lack of us trying."

Odette had seen Queen Elsa's outbursts before, but the queen had never been anything less than pleasant to her. As a matter of fact, during that entire trip to Bavaria and back, Elsa had been polite. Kind, even friendly. Odette was pretty sure that Elsa had called her a 'friend' to someone along the way. Perhaps these stuffy old men were just going about it the wrong way.

"Yeah, okay, let's do it."

"You'll do it?" Findlay sounded genuinely surprised. "But, you're aware –"

"Yes, I'm aware of how you expect her to respond," Odette said. "Call me crazy, but I think that I just might get somewhere with her."

"Actually, that's precisely what we thought as well," Findlay said, sounding relieved. He was fiddling with a pen. "You see, we'd gotten into the habit of having Agatha do it, because –"

"You think that she'll be more willing to listen to a woman about it," Odette finished.

"Yes." Findlay opened a drawer at his desk and removed a green folder. He passed it to Odette, who flipped it open to see several bound pages inside, with a list of names. They were each associated with a title and a country, and they appeared to be given a letter grade. The A's on the first page, B's on the next, and so forth. There were some notes at the foot, and some in the margins. Things like: _Blaise Morello might be courting Sydney Lyman of Sussex. Perhaps not available._

"Alright," Odette said, closing the folder and standing up. "Have fun with Captain Salvador, Findlay." The captain had an exceedingly well-established reputation for boorishness.

"Yes," Findlay said, removing his spectacles and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thank you, Odette."

Odette nodded and stepped out of the office, heading towards the east conference room to wait for the queen.

xxx

Elsa stepped out of the conference room, smiling over her shoulder and waving once more to the courtsmen that were gathering their things behind her. The Queen of Arendelle turned and saw Odette Marie Novare step away from the wall, where she'd apparently been waiting. They fell into step beside each other, walking towards the residence. Elsa needed to think, and the best place to do that, in her experience, was Agnarr's old study.

"There's a small town named Brent in the north foothills," Elsa said by way of introduction. "Eighty percent of their citizens make their living farming grain."

"Hi, by the way," Odette replied.

They turned a corner, and Elsa twisted to meet Odette's eyes. "But of course, it's not easy to grow grain in our soil, on our mountainsides. It's actually rather costly. Bread is more expensive in our nation than any other state in Europe."

"Your majesty, if I could just cut in –"

"Now, naturally, I consider it my prerogative as queen to make sure that as many of my citizens as possible have access to affordable bread. So, when Sweden offers to trade their wheat, which they have in excess, for our wool, which we have in excess, I couldn't be expected to do anything _but_ wholeheartedly agree."

"Yes, your majesty."

They stepped into the residence, and things became noticeably quieter. There weren't a dozen harried workers filling the hallway, heading this way or that to account for all of the many busy things the crown was involved in, nor were there many servants, at this time of day. The carpet was thicker, and the ornamentations nicer. Elsa turned towards Odette.

"Excuse me?"

Odette stopped. "Excuse me what?"

"I don't believe that you've addressed me in my preferred manner once today, Odette."

Odette blushed. "It's not proper, your majesty."

Elsa turned and continued walking, and Odette scurried to keep up. "Well, you see, Odette, that's the great thing about being queen," she smirked. "I get to change the rules of propriety if I don't like them."

"Okay –"

Elsa raised an eyebrow.

"– Elsa," Odette finished, the name tingling on her lips. For some reason, it felt dirty to be referring to someone as powerful and glamorous as Elsa by her first name.

"In any case," Elsa continued, sweeping on, "I accepted the new trade agreement with Sweden last April. Since then, the price of bread has fallen by nearly half. The poor are less hungry than they've ever been."

"That's a wonderful achievement," Odette said earnestly.

"Yes, it is," Elsa agreed, stopping at the thick oaken door to her father's old study and looking Odette in the eyes. "We've probably saved the lives of hundreds of poor, most of them children."

She opened the door, and they stepped into the office. Odette inhaled, smiling at the pleasant smell of old books. The young magistrate took a seat at one of the plush chairs beside the thick desk, and Elsa walked around to the other side.

"But now the people of Brent are destitute," Elsa said. "Before, the grain they grew was baked into bread all across the country. Now they barely earn enough to support themselves."

Odette frowned. She hadn't thought of that.

"Some of them write me letters," Elsa said. "The last was from a young mother, with three children under five. They were nearly ruined by the trade act, and this year, their crop was weak. They hadn't been able to afford the necessary measures to protect their crop from pests, and their yield was low. Her husband committed suicide a few weeks ago. They will have to sell the farm just to survive."

"Why did she write to tell you this?" Odette said, feeling slightly ill.

"She didn't have anyone else to go to," Elsa said. "She needed someone to care."

"What are you going to do about it?" Odette asked quietly.

"Nothing," Elsa replied, sighing and rubbing her face. "There's nothing I _can_ do. For the first time in three centuries, our budget runs at a deficit. Our treasury is already pledged to financing initiatives like the construction of public schools, and the pay for public works employees, like the ones who are painting murals on the shops at Condorcet Square.

"For the first time in three centuries, the crown is committed to improving the lives of all of its citizens. It seems oxymoronic, but that means some people are going to get left behind. A financial bailout of Brent would cost far more gold than you might imagine. I've had some of my commerce advisors run the numbers. It isn't doable."

They were both quiet for a few long moments. Suddenly, the 'list' seemed ridiculously idiotic to Odette.

"Logically, I know that I'm doing more good than harm," Elsa said. "But that doesn't make reading the letters any easier."

"I admire your strength," Odette said. It didn't really feel right to say that, but she couldn't think of anything else.

Elsa half-smiled. "Anyway. What's on your mind, Odette?"

"Well," she began, "Namar asked Findlay to ask me to –"

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Wow. What gentlemen, passing the list off to you."

"Oh, no, I, uh, I have no problem with it," Odette hurriedly said. "I told them that I would handle it."

Elsa sighed. "Let me see it."

She waved her hand, and Odette passed over the green folder. Elsa flipped it open and scanned the names, eyes darting back and forth quickly. After a few seconds, she looked over the top of it at Odette.

"There aren't any new names?"

Odette shrugged. "I mean, I have no idea. I'd never seen it before today."

Elsa flipped to the next page, and then groaned. "The list hasn't even changed since last month! There's _no_ new information in here. If I didn't want to marry of these men a month ago, what makes Namar Sadden think that I'd want to marry one now?"  
"A sense of childlike optimism?" Odette guessed with a grimace.

"Do you know why I don't want to marry one of these men?" Elsa said, closing the folder and setting it upon her desk, then lacing her fingers together over it.

"I don't," Odette conceded. "They're all wealthy and powerful. The ones with an 'A' rating are supposedly handsome and charming as well. They've all expressed interest in your hand, and you don't seem like the type to hold out for love."

"What makes you say that?" Elsa asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"Well, I mean, it's just that you're always so pragmatic," Odette supplied, realizing that she was fidgeting and deliberately stopping. "You just seem so – above – something as human as romance."

Elsa smiled. "Are you being serious?"

"Very!" Odette said, surprised. Is that not how Elsa perceived herself? With an aura of something inhuman, something _better?_

"Well, that's as good a reason as I was about to give," Elsa said, passing the folder back over the table to Odette. "Take this back to Namar Sadden and tell him personally that I'm still uninterested, and that he's going to have to learn to live with that."

"Yes, your highness," Odette said, inclining her head. She stood and headed for the door.

"Odette?"

She turned and looked back at Elsa, who had her head bent over a stack of paperwork.

"Yes?"  
"Do you mind if I ask you a forward question?"  
Odette felt herself blush, but Elsa didn't look up and notice it. For that, the young magistrate was grateful. She tried to keep her voice neutral as she said, "Yes, of course."

"It's not that I'm not interested in romance at all," Elsa said, setting her pen aside and looking up at Odette. "But I'd only be interested in going about things on my own terms. No lists."

"That sounds very reasonable, Elsa." Odette scratched the wood of the doorframe with her fingernails absently.

"The thing is," Elsa said, "I've never dated before. Hell, I've never even _been_ on a date before."

Elsa frowned, and for a few moments it looked like she was chewing on what she was about to say.

"So I was wondering if you'd like to teach me what you know about dating."

"Excuse me?" It was Odette's turn to frown.

"Well, surely you've had a fair bit more experience with these matters," Elsa said matter-of-factly. It seemed like she was trying to conceal embarrassment. "I try to make a policy of listening to those who know more than me."

"Elsa, I'm not exactly what you would call an _expert_ on dating," Odette said, blushing. "I wasn't exactly 'dating around' in college."

Elsa found that hard to believe. Odette might have intimidated the boys, sure; after all, she was almost certainly smarter than all of them. But at the same time, she was stunningly beautiful. It was very hard to envision a world where she wouldn't have had suitors lining up to court her.

"Well," Elsa said, "I can only ask this of a close advisor, because I can be seen in public with one of them without consequence. And I'm certainly not about to take Namar Sadden out to lunch. So I'd certainly appreciate it if you wanted to help."

"Wait." Novare blushed further. "You want to take _me_ on a date?"  
Elsa pursed her lips. "Well, yes. What are your plans for lunch?"

Odette tried not to gasp. "Uh-um, nothing! Nothing at all! I-I mean, I'd be delighted. It would be my pleasure."

She almost winced. _Damn, I sound so awkward._

"Perfect," Elsa smiled. "Then it's a date."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 _I'm taking Odette out to lunch today. I'm not sure whether or not it's a date. I called it a date. I'm not sure whether I want Odette to know it's a date. I'm worried that I'll scare her off if I do anything too forwards_

 _Elsa's diary_

* * *

The Sailor of Means,

Arendelle

November 21st, 1842

The Sailor of Means was a high-end restaurant built on the pier by Northland Yard, a venerable establishment that dated back to the reign of Elsa's great-grandfather. Proudly adorning the walls inside were memorabilia from the eighteenth century, including the establishment's crown jewel: the Jean Honoré Fragonard painting _Happy Accidents of the Swing_. It had been on loan to the royal palace's gallery for a while before Elsa's coronation, but since then its term of residency had expired and it was returned to The Sailor of Means, worth quite a bit more from having spent time in a royal palace.

Elsa and Odette Marie Novare sat below the Rococo painting in a table beside the far wall, no small object of attention for the other customers, who were making quite a show of trying to watch the queen discreetly. Odette, on the other hand, had to force herself to maintain eye contact. She was intimidated by Elsa, of course, and with good reason. The Queen of Arendelle was a force of nature, more like a work of art than a person. She was beautiful, poised, and measured in all things. She was kind and thoughtful, but when moved to anger, she could be like a tempest.

Odette wanted her.

She wasn't certain when the hero worship she'd felt for Elsa had bled over into attraction, but when it had, it hit her hard. She would get swept up in fantasies where Elsa walked into her office, swept all the reports onto the ground, and kissed her, hard.

"Odette?"

Odette blushed furiously and stammered, "Uh, I-I'm sorry, Elsa, I was, um, thinking about something else. What were you saying?"

Elsa frowned for moment, but then decided to move on. "I asked you to tell me something business-related, so we can both tell ourselves that this was a working lunch."

"Oh." Odette racked her brain for something relevant to tell the queen. "Uh, well, the judicial review of the prison system is just getting underway."

"Okay, tell me about it," Elsa said, waving to a waiter, who scurried over immediately. "I'll have whatever dish the chef is proudest of," Elsa said to him.

The waiter nodded and hurriedly scribbled a note, then turned to Odette. "And for the lady?"

Odette hadn't thought about what to order. She'd never been here before, and especially not for an inconsequential lunch; the restaurant was well outside of her pay grade. "Um, you know, I think that the same thing will do." She said lamely, handing the unopened menu back to the stiff man.

He nodded. "Very well. Her majesty and her majesty's friend will be quite pleased, I assure you."

As the man swept off, Odette turned back to Elsa. "Well, it might surprise you to hear that it's not actually very straightforward, figuring out how many people have been incarcerated over a given period. Basically, we have pretty good reason to believe that individual precincts are either letting some crimes that really do deserve jail time settle out of court, while others are filling jail cells with innocent people." Odette felt more comfortable, speaking about something with which she had some expertise, and she started to open up a bit more as she continued. "Unfortunately, there isn't a standardized way of keeping records on incarceration numbers, and every precinct has its own methods."

"Well, this may sound naïve," Elsa said, smirking a bit, "and I imagine that you're about to tell me why it is, but isn't there just, you know, a list?"

"Well, that's part of the problem, believe it or not," Odette replied, her lips pursing in thought. "You see, individual precincts have individual incentives to inflate or deflate their own incarceration numbers over a period. Like, down near the south wharf where the crime rate is high, and their budget depends on their ability to incarcerate people, they might artificially boost their numbers by taking innocent people in on trumped-up charges, or sometimes just by lying outright about their number of filled cells."

"And the reverse?" Elsa's brow furrowed. _How can today be the first time I've heard about something like this?_ Something she was still getting used to as queen was the notion that hundreds of little things might get done by her staff without ever making their way up to her eyes, and it was often those little things that made the country function smoothly. In some ways, it made her wonder who was really important around here.

"Well, take the constabulary in this precinct." Odette glanced around, wondering if it was really wise to criticize the neighborhood's policing in public. "This is a wealthy precinct, with a vested interest in appearing domestic and idyllic. After all, they're trying to sell land to rich men who want to build themselves a manor house in the city."

"So you think that they're covering up little offenses that might tarnish the neighborhood's reputation?"

"Well, it doesn't really matter what I think," Odette said, "because pretty soon we'll have a report that either confirms or denies the truth of it."

The conversation was interrupted by the return of the waiter, bearing their food. Elsa thanked him, and the man bowed very low in response, clearly ecstatic to have served the queen. Then he scurried away.

"Well, thank you," Elsa said. "For the information. And keep me updated about this report. I want to know the results when they come in."

"Of course." Odette took a bite of steamed halibut. She wasn't sure what to expect, but it was quite good. She took another bite.

"Now, onto the dating advice," Elsa said with a twinkle of something mischievous in her eye.

Odette frowned, thinking about how to put it. "Elsa, I, uh, I'm really not going to be as much help with this as you think I will."

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm not an experienced dater either," she replied. "I've never been courted before."

"Why not?" Elsa asked, wondering how deep she could probe into this. She was certainly trying to get to a place of familiarity between herself and Odette, but their friendship might not be ready for questions like this.

"Your majesty?"

"Elsa," the queen corrected gently. "Come on. Talk to me as a friend. Why not?"

"Well," Odette said, rubbing the back of her neck, "I'd be lying if I'd said that no guy had ever expressed interest in me before, but it's just that…"

"You turned them down?" Elsa guessed.

"Yes," Odette admitted. "But it's not what you think."

"What do you suppose I think?" Elsa asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Odette blushed. "It's not that I'm a prude, or something like that."

"Oh, heavens no, Odette, I wouldn't have guessed that in a million years. You don't strike me as a prude."

Odette wasn't sure if Elsa was poking fun at her. "Are you joking?"

"No," Elsa said, her voice becoming serious. "Someone worried about propriety wouldn't have written a graduate thesis arguing that monarchial government is basically institutional oppression, and then taken a job working for a monarch."

Odette blushed even deeper. "E-Elsa, I didn't –"

"Of course you meant it," Elsa said, "and I don't think that I'd be a very rational person if I didn't listen very carefully to your arguments. After all, you're a bright girl. And do you know what? You're _right,_ Odette. Monarchy _is_ oppression. That's why I've been doing whatever I can to undo that damage."

Odette wasn't sure what to say.

"With great power, comes great potential. Potential for good, and potential for evil. It's largely up to me to decide what to make of what I've been given." Elsa trailed off, and looked wistful.

"Are you still talking about government, Elsa?" Odette wasn't sure, but it felt like Elsa was talking about what that monk had said to her. Wulfric Shaw. He'd said she was destined to save the world from some encroaching darkness, something terrible. They hadn't talked much about that conversation, since Odette and Elsa had gotten back from Bavaria. Odette wasn't sure Elsa wanted to talk about it.

Elsa remained quiet for a few more moments before speaking again. "I'm not sure," she whispered.

"You know what, Elsa?" Odette said, suddenly emboldened. She wasn't sure where this was coming from. "Finding a suitor is the last thing you need to be wasting your time on right now. Every day, you're faced with monumental decisions that will change the lives of hundreds of people. Every day, you're doing your best to make sure that you're changing those lives for the better. Literally the _last_ thing that you should be worried about is finding someone to appease Namar Sadden."

Elsa smirked in a familiar way. "That's touching, Odette. However, I have no intentions of a public romance. I'm interested in this for myself."

"What do you mean?" Odette asked.

"Well, this may come as a surprise to you, based on the way I've heard you talk about me, but I'm actually not above 'trivial human emotions.'" Elsa clasped her hands together and sighed. "About a month ago, Kristoff Bjorgmann asked me whether he could have my little sister's hand in marriage. Notwithstanding that her hand is not mind to give, I knew that she would gladly accept him, and I was still happy to be informed of his plans beforehand."

"Kristoff wants to marry Anna?" Odette echoed. That would be a big deal. The couple was well-known across Arendelle as the beautiful young face of the royal family.

"Yes, and I gave him my blessing, such as it is," Elsa said. "But doing so made me realize that I have a very short list of people to love in this world. When Kristoff marries Anna, they plan to move to the countryside and raise a family away from the frenzied pace of the city. It won't happen for a year or so, probably, but once they do, I'm going to be lonely."

Odette's eyes widened. "I-I'm sorry, Elsa."

"I appreciate your empathy, Odette," Elsa said. "But hopefully, I won't actually be lonely, because hopefully, I'll have a relationship to call my own by then."

"That… would be nice," Odette said. "Elsa, I'm starting to feel like you didn't really want dating advice from me. I'm starting to think that you already had a plan."

"Well of course I had a plan," Elsa said. "I try to plan for most everything. It's a natural consequence of having a terribly unpredictable youth. But you're right. I didn't want dating advice from you, really. I just wanted to talk my plans through with someone I consider a friend."

Odette had been elated to hear Elsa call her a friend several weeks ago, but now, she wished that Elsa hadn't said it. It felt like a blow, when she wanted more than that.

"Well, I'm very happy that you think of me that way," Odette said. "I consider you a friend as well. And, um, I'll always be here to listen to you talk things through," she said, wondering whether she should have workshopped that sentence harder. It sounded sort of stupid. Like the sort of thing a teenager would say to flirt, not a twenty-six year old woman.

"Thank you, Odette," Elsa said seriously. "Now let's get some dessert," she said.

"Elsa? It's lunchtime!" Odette said, laughing.

"Yeah, but I want something chocolate," Elsa said, flagging over the same waiter as before. "Waiter? Waiter! Waiter, please bring us something with chocolate in it. Yes, I'm not picky."

xxx

Odette stood in the square below her apartment, looking up at the steady glow of the gas lamp that cast her into a puddle of yellow. It was quite cold, but she had a coat on; the young magistrate had spent the better part of an hour wandering the grounds, analyzing and over-analyzing what her lunch with Elsa had meant. She wanted very much to confess her feelings for the queen, but there were so many reasons that was a bad idea.

For one, it was unprofessional. Having feelings for your boss was bad enough, but when your boss was the leader of a nation, it only compounded the issue. Second, she had no particular reason to believe that Elsa… well, that Elsa would be interested in her in the first place. Part of the reason Odette hadn't tried to discretely date women before was that she had a bad record of confessing her feelings to girls that just weren't into that. And of course, despite what Elsa had said earlier, it really was critical that the queen stay focused on her duties right now.

After all, she was trying to do radical, beautiful things as queen at the same time as she was apparently supposed to save the world from a shadowy cabal of wizards that Odette was just barely beginning to understand.

"Miss Novare?"

Odette turned and saw Charles Vander walk into the light of a lamp, cupping his hands around a cigar as he worked to give it a light. The man seemed to be smoking every time Odette saw him.

"Charles," Odette said, nodding deferentially to him. "Why are you out so late?"

"Eh," he grunted. "My joints are achy tonight. Figured that I wasn't going to get much sleep anyhow, so I might as well take a smoke out in the air. Clear my head a bit."

Odette nodded, then returned to the nearby bench and sat beside the venerable man.

"How about you, Miss Novare? It's awfully cold and dark out for quiet contemplations."

"Quiet contemplations," Odette repeated, rolling the words over on her tongue. "I kind of like that."

"Well, I wanted something a bit less patronizing than 'daydreaming,'" Vander replied.

"Oh, well," Odette said, wondering how to reply, "I…" she abruptly turned to look over at him. "Charles?"

"Hmm?"

"What made you realize that you were in love with Elita, all those years ago?"

"Ah, well, when you've been married to someone for fifty-two years, you start to forget little things like that," Vander said, blowing a ring of smoke into the night air. He turned to look at Odette, and his eyes twinkled. "Just kidding. I still remember."

Odette smiled.

"It was the spring of 1789," he said. "Elita was a French expatriate, one of the men and women of status that had to flee the country before that whole damned revolution."

Odette was willing to accept that few in a country with such a strong, hereditary monarchy would approve of something like the French Revolution, but it still made her a bit uncomfortable. Surely, if people really knew what the people had been fighting for – never mind. Best not get caught up on that.

"Well, Miss Novare, my father was a kind man, and a caring man, and he opened his doors to any of the folks who needed a place to stay. Over the year we gave a bed to maybe a dozen different men and women, but I don't remember any of the others, to tell you the truth. Elita came along and wiped them all away."

He looked wistful.

"Well, I knew she was beautiful from the moment we took her in, and I was smitten by her sultry French accent, y'know, but I wasn't sure that I really saw myself making a life with her until that winter." Vander smiled. "An old family friend of ours would host a Christmas dance every year on the twenty-fourth, and I asked her to come with me.

"I still remember how beautiful she looked in that dress," he said, trailing off. "What makes you ask, Miss Novare?

"Oh, no reason," Odette said, standing up and removing her hands from her pockets to curtsy to him. "But thank you for the story. I have to be getting to bed now."

"Yes, you certainly do," Vander replied, chuckling. "Have a nice night."

xxx

Odette had trouble falling asleep. Vander's story had made an impression on her. She didn't want to die alone; as a matter of fact, she wanted to be making lovely memories she'd remember fifty-two years from now with someone, and it just so happened that someone was Elsa. Plus, now was the time to do it, it seemed. After all, fifty-two years ago, Vander had been younger than Odette was now.

In a deliriously tired, half-asleep state that night, Odette decided to herself that she was going to confess her feelings, in person, to Elsa.

In a moment of cowardice the next morning, Odette settled on writing her a letter instead.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note:

Keen readers will remember some of this content from Chapter 13 of TLD1. I promise, however, that it reads fresh from Odette's point of view. I hope you enjoy. Also, it's a double upload today! Make sure to check out chapter 4!

xxx

Chapter Three

 _It's hard to enjoy the holidays when you'd sincerely love it if your boss would suddenly fall in love with you, but also you're afraid to talk to your boss and so you mostly try to avoid her._

* * *

The Saint Adelaide,

Arendelle

December 25th, 1842

Odette had written a love letter, bright and early on the morning of November 22nd. Of course, she hadn't given it to Elsa, spoken of it to the queen, or even really thought about it for over a month. She'd tucked away the little token of her affection in a wooden keepsake box given to her by her mother, and tucked the box underneath her bed, safe and sound. Odette wasn't exactly one to go shouting from the rooftops when she had something to say, and confessing her feelings for Elsa was no different. So she kept going about her business, acting awkwardly around Elsa when they'd bump into each other in the halls, or after meetings, but things were mostly business-as-usual until Christmas came.

As a matter of fact, when Christmas day arrived, the last time Odette had even spoken to Elsa was on the twenty-second, when she'd recommended the name of a fashion designer who'd graciously given Odette several dresses as a way to generate publicity about his brand. They were nice, and Odette had been grateful for the gifts, so she'd hoped to pass along the favor by earning the designer a queen's commission. As Odette stepped out of the magistrate's buggy when they arrived at the Saint Adelaide Cathedral, she looked down the caravan to see Elsa being helped from the first carriage, clad in a nice azure pea coat and a charcoal skirt, as well as the glimmering royal tiara. Odette smiled. She looked lovely.

"Excuse me, Odette, but you need to make way," Findlay Morrison said from behind her.

"Oh," Odette gasped, blushing, and quickly stepped out of the way to let the rest of the magistrates leave the carriage. There were only the four associate magistrates present, at the moment; Namar Sadden had come down with the flu a few days before, and he was bedridden. It was unfortunate, because he was an admirer of Bishop Clement's sermons, and Clement had promised a good one today. A few armed guards flanked the four counsellors as they walked across the magnificent forecourt before the cathedral, earning them a wide berth from the many ordinary folks making their way into the ritzy church at the same time.

"I swear, Garret, we don't need your protection," Charles Vander grumbled to one of the soldiers from the front of their makeshift little formation as he adjusted his scarf to block against the blustery winds. "If there's another attempt on the queen's life, a couple of fussy old men are going to be the _last_ thing they care about shooting."

"We have our orders, Mr. Vander," Garret replied, shifting the heavy rifle against his shoulder as they started up the steps. "Her majesty believes that the murder of Agatha Merke is evidence that her magistrates are indeed likely targets of violence."

"Yes, well, I say the whole thing's rubbish," Charles Vander grumbled. Odette smiled. The old man would have preferred to walk amongst the citizens.

There was a great fuss in getting the queen's entourage into the cathedral, and into their reserved seats just before the pulpit, all while allowing Elsa to walk the line of citizens. For someone who had nearly lost her life to an assassin merely two months before, Elsa was practically brazen in the way she stopped to clasp hands and kiss foreheads, offering her blessing to any who asked for it. Odette stood several feet off, feeling a great affection for this woman she admired and idolized so much.

Finally, it seemed that Elsa had worked the line thoroughly, and the entourage was seated. The magistrates were filed into the pews just behind the queen's, and Odette ended up in the seat directly anterior to Anna's. The bishop stepped forwards to take the pulpit, and the sermon began.

To be honest, Odette didn't remember much of what he said. She wasn't religious; this was actually the first time she'd been in a church for a few years. In addition, she was interrupted a minute or so in by one of the palace errand-boys; he discreetly slipped towards her pew and passed a note down the line towards her. Odette unfolded the paper and frowned as she read: _Word has it that Neiman Redford will be hosting a salon to criticize the queen's platform on the eve of the New Year. – C_

She sighed as she folded the note and tucked it into a pocket of her dress. It would have been from Chauncey, a courtsman and friend to the queen who'd been keeping the monarchy up to date on these salons. When Queen Elsa had proposed a radical progressive platform early in November, it had seemed, outwardly, that the court approved. In the weeks since, they'd taken to clandestine meetings to voice their dissent.

It was normal for politicians to politick, and there was always going to be an opposition party. Besides, nothing but an autocracy would censure speech. Perhaps the single most important part of mandated rule was full-throated acceptance of your critics, but it still stung Odette that so many of these courtsmen chose this hill to die on. Honestly, they were protesting an infrastructure project that would build modern apartments in Arendelle's poorest neighborhoods.

It was a problem, but one for another time.

Odette's attention came back just as the priest was finishing his closing comments, wishing all the penitents a Merry Christmas and entreating them to do something charitable today to spread the spirit of the season. _Boy, time flies when you're wondering how best to insulate your queen's rule against revolt,_ Odette thought wryly as the queen's entourage stood and began filing their way out of the cathedral, again beleaguered on all sides by excitable citizens trying to catch a glimpse of the queen.

Elsa fell into step beside Odette, and fit a word in between her broad smile and panoramic waving to the crowds. "I noticed that you got a note part of the way through."

Odette turned sideways to allow one of the guards to work his way past her, joining those in front to make a sort of barricade that would lead them out of the cathedral. Elsa regularly insisted that the increased security that had followed her since the failed assassination attempt on her last October was a show of weakness and of authoritarianism, but her Chief of Security insisted. He would simply reply, 'you wouldn't have the luxury of thinking about what appearances to keep up if you were dead, your majesty.'

"I did," she replied, having to raise her voice to be heard over the massive press.

"Do I need to know anything about it?" Elsa smoothed her furrowed brow as she turned back to the crowds, waving and smiling, waving and smiling.

"Yes, your majesty."

"Elsa." Elsa didn't turn as she made the comment.

"Yes, Elsa," Odette amended. "It was from Chauncey. He says that Neiman Redford is going to be holding another salon on the thirty-first."

"Well," Elsa said, squinting as they stepped outdoors into the sun, "he's the first member of the Commons to host, isn't he?"

"Yes, Elsa." Odette shoved her hands into her pockets against the chill. It was cold out today, not that Elsa would ever notice. The only reason she even wore a coat outside during the wintertime was that it looked more natural – doing otherwise would remind her people that she wasn't like them, that she was different.

"That's unfortunate," Elsa said, her face unreadable. Odette knew that the queen was probably furious, but far too tactful to show anything. Elsa was good at concealing what she felt.

They approached the carriage at the front of the van, where Anna was already being escorted inside by an entourage of guards. She turned and waved to the people once more before being shut inside. Elsa turned back towards Odette.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

 _Yes._ Odette wondered if Elsa's choice of words was intentional; Odette didn't _need_ to tell Elsa how she felt about her, but she certainly _wanted_ to.

"No, Elsa."

Elsa looked past Odette for a moment, and bit her lip.

"Kristoff is going to propose to Anna tonight," Elsa said, glancing back.

"Oh." Odette hadn't expected to hear that. "I suppose that it's been long enough."

"Yes, I suppose it has," Elsa replied, looking down. "They've been dating for three years now. I… I suppose it's time."

"Your majesty?" A broad-chested soldier stepped up to the pair. "The caravan is ready to depart."

Elsa glanced over at the man as if she didn't see him, for a moment, and then she nodded. She turned back to Odette and smiled wanly.

"Have a Merry Christmas, Odette."

Odette nodded, suddenly feeling very lonesome. She didn't have much of anything in the way of plans later. She'd asked the other magistrates if they'd like to have some sort of get-together later, but they all had families. Findlay Morrison had invited her to his family's dinner, if she liked, but she wasn't sure. It would feel like intruding.

"Thank you," she replied, nodding to Elsa as the queen stepped up into the carriage. "You too, Elsa."

The door was shut, and Odette turned to head back to the magistrate's carriage.

xxx

Odette decided that she'd just stay in her apartment that evening. She tried to do work, but her heart wasn't in it. She'd sit and stare at some memo asking that the language in clause XVIII(b) of the property codes law be reworded to get rid of the implication that buildings could be written off as capital investment stock, provided the top floor remain unfinished; then, after her eyes started to un-focus, she'd set the memo down and start reading it all over again. She was restless, she eventually realized; she needed to move, but she didn't know where.

So Odette pulled on a coat and started walking. She followed no path in particular, wandering the circuitous paving-stone lanes that wound their way through the palace grounds, being careful to stick to the path so that she didn't have to walk in the snow. It was an hour or two past sunset, and there was a lovely twilight splendor to the gardens that made Odette feel strangely ethereal, as if this were some sort of waking dream. When she eventually came to the palace, it felt natural to go inside, although these doors let into the residence, and it was improper for an employee to enter the residence after-hours.

The guard by the door recognized her by sight and let her in, saluting crisply. "Business for the queen?" He asked.

"Um, yes," Odette said, frowning. "Yes."

"Very well. Merry Christmas, Madam Magistrate."

Odette nodded to the guard and stepped past, reaching to her nose as she expected her glasses to fog over, and then stopping as she realized that she wasn't wearing them. She must have left them behind at the apartment. _Oh well._ She kept walking, now starting to wonder if she knew where she was going. She really was doing something improper, being in the royal family's residence on a day when there was no business to be done, no real reason to be here. She stepped into the grand foyer, and to her surprise, she saw a fine silk shawl draped against the post at the end of the grand staircase.

 _This is Elsa's,_ Odette thought to herself as she walked up to the post and rubbed it between her fingers, admiring its almost surreal softness.

Suddenly, Odette wondered if she'd been meant to come here and find this shawl tonight, if for nothing other than an excuse to see the queen again. She picked it up and folded it neatly over her arm, looking around. _Well, I suppose I'd better find her._

Odette looked, first upstairs, and then down, asking servants that she bumped into every now and again whether they'd seen the queen. Surprisingly, no one had, though they were all quite sure she was here. After ten or fifteen minutes of scouring the residence and a fairly comprehensive search of all the rooms that Odette dared enter, she ended up where she started, in a room just off of the foyer.

 _Where is she?_ Odette wondered, turning the robe over in her arms again and looking at it. It was a very pretty piece of clothing, the kind of thing that someone would slip on and then put on airs because they dressed better than you. Not that Elsa would do that; she was too classy for that.

Without really thinking too much about it, Odette slipped one arm into the sleeve, and then the other, pulling the silk shawl around herself. _Oh my,_ she thought, rubbing her arms. _I feel sexy._

She noticed a mirror on one side of the room, and waltzed over to it, admiring herself in the mirror. Without her glasses on and with her hair down, the fur trim around the robe gave her a sort of puffed-up, royal look. She swelled her chest inadvertently. Suddenly, Odette half-lidded her eyes, doing her best impression of Elsa's 'look.' It was pretty good, if she had to say so herself.

Odette turned and swept into the foyer, continuing her affectation of Elsa's imperious gaze, trying not to dissolve into giggles at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Playing the queen, are we?" Elsa's voice sounded from the staircase.

Odette gasp-screamed, turning towards the stairs and placing a hand over her heart as she saw Elsa descending the stairs. "Oh my god!" _Oh my GOD._ "Elsa!"

Odette blushed a deep red, completely mortified. She hurriedly removed the shawl, folding it back over her arm and staring at the floor with wide eyes, wondering how she'd just managed to make such a complete fool of herself. She started stammering, barely aware of what she was saying.

I saw this just… h-hanging on the post there, and I wanted to return it to you, b-but after looking all over, well… it looked real nice…"

 _It looked real nice?_ Her brain chided. _My god, the minute you get embarrassed your language skills are the first to go, aren't they?_

Elsa laughed lightly and accepted the cloak from Odette, shaking it back out. She stepped around Odette, who was still fighting to maintain some semblance of a reasonable facial color.

"Don't be embarrassed, Odette," Elsa said, tapping the underside of Odette's arms. To the young magistrate's surprise, when she lifted them, Elsa helped her slip the shawl back on. The places Elsa brushed her skin felt tingly. "I think that it actually suits you quite well."

Odette turned to glance at Elsa sideways. "Y-you think so?"

"I do," Elsa said, coming back around. She smiled genuinely. "Now come on. I was just looking for someone to talk to."

She hooked an arm through Odette's and started off, her destination already in mind.

Odette wondered if she was dreaming. She wondered if she could pinch herself without Elsa noticing. She felt heady and winded, and she could feel her heart hammering. She was acting like a little girl. But who the hell cared? Elsa wanted to talk to Odette in private, and that was basically as good as an invitation to start kissing right now.

"You probably haven't been inside my father's study yet, have you?" Elsa smiled towards Odette.

Odette actually had. She had once before, back in November when Elsa had talked to her about the people of Brent, and the 'list.' But she didn't want to spoil what seemed like a lovely moment, and in any case, she hadn't really been shown around. She hadn't had a chance to look at all of the rare books inside, and that was a rare treat in itself.

"No," she said smoothly. "But I've heard all about it! Montaigne told me that you have all sorts of old books, really rare ones, too."

They came up to the door of the study.

Elsa smiled and opened the door, and they stepped over the threshold. The queen left Odette in the doorway and went about the room, lighting candles with a serene sort of grace. She came back after she was done and ushered Odette over the threshold, closing the door behind them.

"Come on, take a look around, silly," Elsa laughed, showing Odette over to the nearest bookcase. "You'll like it."

Odette _did_ like it. There were dozens of leather-bound masterpieces all snuggled up with each other on the shelves, decorated with gold lettering and metal trims, the kind of really fancy books that monks would toil over for years during the Middle Ages, meticulously hand-crafted and fit to be admired as a work of art, in addition to a font of learning. She murmured the titles as she traced her fingers along them, exclaiming every here and there when she found something particularly exciting.

Elsa lazily walked over to the desk and leaned against it, smiling as she twirled a finger in her hair. A few moments later, Odette turned towards Elsa.

"Do you mind if I look at this more closely?" Elsa smiled and stood up, walking over to see that Odette was delicately holding a copy of one of Shakespeare's folios. "I've never been so close to a real one before."

"Of course," Elsa said, motioning for her to open it. "You'll be giving it more love than I ever have, I'm afraid. I was never much of a fan of Shakespeare."

"You weren't?" Odette said with surprise as she carefully opened the cover, revealing large, blocky sheets of yellowed paper, covered with a dense, fading ink.

"No," Elsa said, wrinkling her nose. "I think that maybe I just read his plays too young. I think my father was a bit overeager when my education began. I read _Hamlet_ when I was seven; I don't think I was ready to appreciate it yet."

Odette was quiet for a few moments, and then she laughed lightly. "It's a beautiful play. I was going to recite my favorite line, but I realized that it's the 'to be, or not to be' one, and so playing it back from memory might not be as impressive as I'd intended."

Elsa smiled. "Come here," she said. "There's a really beautiful view of the city from the balcony, and I can count on one hand the number of people who've gotten to see it. Let's add you to the list."

Odette returned the folio to the shelf, and let Elsa lead her into the brisk night air.

"Wow," she gasped, jaw opening wide as she took in the entire city, all spread out before her like a picturesque winter tapestry. Lazy snowflakes twirled through the air above and below, drifting down to their eventual resting place among the smoky chimneys and shingled rooftops of the city. "It really is lovely."

They settled against the balcony railing, and gazed out to the horizon for a little while. Elsa turned towards Odette, and parted her lips as if to speak, but then stopped herself. She smiled.

"Do you mind if I chat your ear off? It's been a long time since I've been able to just sit and talk to someone about whatever I wanted to, and I just want to make sure that I'm not keeping you hostage."

"Oh, no!" Odette exclaimed. "Not at all!" Unsure whether she was pushing the envelope a bit, she added, "There's no place I'd rather be."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," Elsa laughed.

And talk they did.

They talked for most of an hour, about everything that came to Elsa's mind, and some other things besides. Elsa told Odette about all the little things that kept her up at night, from mundane tasks and paperwork to Agnarr, and Iduna, and some personal things about her childhood that had previously been known only to Montaigne and Anna. The queen found that Odette was easy to talk to, with her unique combination of perceptiveness and acceptance. It felt like she would intuitively understand anything Elsa was trying to say to her, while at the same time accepting it without judgment.

After a little while, it felt like there wasn't much more to say. Not in a bad way, mind you; it seemed like the two had fallen into a certain rhythm, where they didn't need to say anything to be heard, and the steady rhythm of their heartbeats said all that was necessary.

"I don't have very many friends," Elsa said softly. "So I'm really glad to call you one."

Odette felt a heady warmth in her chest. She wanted to kiss Elsa, badly. "I'm really happy to call you a friend too, Elsa."

They met each other's eyes for several tantalizing heartbeats. Odette started to move her weight towards her tiptoes, started to lean – and then Elsa turned towards the city. Odette let her momentum follow through as a soft lean into Elsa's side, her heart skipping a beat as she did. She was ready to be a little bold. Her heart fluttered again when she felt Elsa drape an arm around her.

They stood in that lovely side embrace for a few moments before Elsa realized that Odette was shivering.

"Oh my god, you're freezing!" Elsa gasped. "I'm so sorry, I forget how cold it is!"

Elsa broke away from Odette, the queen's cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She felt stupid. Elsa hurriedly opened the door into her father's study and ushered the young magistrate back inside, despite the girl's protests.

"Oh, no, I'm not freezing," Odette said, her own words sounding very fake. What, was she trying to impress Elsa by pretending to be able to stand outside for almost an hour in cold December temperatures without feeling like an icicle? Well, she was, but it wasn't rational. "It was, uh, a little chilly," she acquiesced.

Elsa fussed over her for a moment when they returned inside, straightening the edge of Odette's shawl and pushing a strand of hair out of her face. "I stand corrected. You're a little chilly."

Now was the time. They were so close, Odette could practically feel Elsa's heartbeat. She felt a euphoric tingling in her toes fingertips, a crazy feeling that made her wrap her arms around Elsa's neck and start to lean in. Their chests met, and Odette felt Elsa's warmth like electricity, rippling through her.

Odette's neck craned upwards and Elsa's head turned down to meet her; their noses brushed against each other and then Odette closed her eyes, parting her mouth and then their lips brushed, softly at first, and then –

"Oh, _there you are,_ " Anna said, pushing the door open and stepping into the study, leading Kristoff by the hand. "We were wondering what you would think of a spring –"

The moment was shattered. Elsa and Novare stepped away from each other, startled dumb and blushing deeply. For the second time tonight, Odette wondered whether she could possibly make herself look like a bigger fool. Anna's hand froze on the doorknob and her face became purposefully blank, she and Kristoff suddenly viscerally aware that they had interrupted something. Odette was screaming internally. Several seconds passed while they all stared at one another.

"Miss Gerda told me that while she was doing her nighttime sweeping she saw that the lights to your study were on, so I took the liberty of preparing you some –"

Elsa's master servant Montaigne was backing into the room through the servant's door, carrying a tray of tea and coffee cake. He became still when he saw the four staring at each other, mouths agape. Anna removed her hand from the doorknob.

"I can see that I'm just in time," Montaigne said drily.

"Actually, yeah, you are, Montaigne," Anna said in a voice far higher than normal. "We, uh, Kristoff, and I, uh, wanted to tell you some fantastic news! Why don't we do that somewhere else?"

Montaigne picked up the cue. "Ahem. Well, I'll just leave this here," he said as he left the tea tray on the queen's desk and stepped across the room to the betrothed couple. "Now I think I can probably guess based on the rings the both of you are wearing, and let me tell you that I am delighted…"

And his voice trailed off as he walked away.

Once they were gone, Odette turned to Elsa, leaned up onto her tiptoes, and delicately kissed the queen's cheek before she could react. It wasn't that she didn't want to wait and see what might have happened otherwise, but it didn't feel right anymore. It didn't make it any easier that Elsa seemed to have been turning back around for a real kiss. Some other time. There would be another time.

"Thanks, Elsa. For a fun night." Of course, she meant so much more than that, but she didn't have time to come up with something sweet and poignant. She smiled and gave Elsa a nervous little wave before stepping through the doorway, her face blushing further as soon as she was out of sight. Hurrying away from Agnarr's study, Odette stopped for a moment to reach up and brush her fingers against the place Elsa's lips had touched just moments before.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note:

I'm uploading this at the same time as chapter 3, so make sure you read that one before coming here. Thanks for giving Love Letter a read, and feel free to let me know what you think of it! Check back with Words of the Protector on December 11th for the continuation of the larger TLD story!

xxx

Chapter Four

 _Odette says that she has something important to give me today._

 _Elsa's diary_

* * *

Sadden's Manor,

Arendelle

July 1st, 1843

So much had changed in the months that followed. It almost felt like another lifetime, when Odette looked back and thought of that day when she and Elsa had almost kissed. It would have been so much more magical, if things had worked out that night, than their real first kiss, which had happened in a prison cell on a night Odette thought Elsa was going to die.

Their lives had certainly gotten a bit more complicated and dangerous.

But that didn't matter now. All that mattered was that, in the end, Elsa had kissed her back that day. And every time since.

The pair were snuggled onto a sofa in Elsa's wing, passing time on perhaps the most important night in Arendelle's recent history. It was the night of Arendelle's first democratic election of Parliament, and Elsa's staff had been celebrating the occasion. After a while, there hadn't been any more champagne to open, and the votes could only be counted so fast, so the staff had gone their separate ways for the night. Elsa and Odette ended up here.

"It's a big night," Elsa said, slowly running her hands through Odette's hair as the girl's head lay against her chest.

"Are you worried?" Odette said. "After all this work we did, to try and change things for the better, to try to make actual progress with this Parliament thing, are you worried that we'll wake up tomorrow and find out that everything just sort of… stayed the same?"

"No," Elsa replied, smiling. "Because progress isn't always a straight line forwards. We took two giant steps forward with fair and free elections in this country. Maybe the next thing we have to do is take one step back. The important thing is, we have something to believe in."

Odette smiled. "Gee, it's almost like someone wrote most of those lines for you."

Elsa blushed. "Oh, dear god. I'd honestly forgotten that those sentences didn't come out of my own head, Odette – the speechwriting process is always so hectic, and we never stop to think about line attribution, and –"

Odette laughed. "Actually, I think that you might have been the one who put those lines in your morning address for tomorrow. Honestly, I don't remember either."

Elsa smiled, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence for a little bit. When Elsa spoke again, it was in a playful way. "You told me this morning that you had something important to give to me tonight."

"Oh! Yes, I did," Odette said, sitting up and patting her person. She had that sort of breathless, heady look she had when she was about to kiss Elsa. The queen didn't know exactly what mix of emotions that look expressed, but she liked to think of it as a nervous excitement.

Odette drew a folded letter from the sleeve of her dress, and looked down at it for a moment. "There's a bit of a story that goes along with this letter."

"Okay," Elsa said, eyes twinkling as she extricated herself enough from Odette's arms to meet the girl's eyes. "What's the story?"

"Well, do you remember that day you invited me to lunch with you, way back in November of last year? It was the day Findlay Morrison got me to talk to you about the list."

"Yeah, I remember it."

"Well," Odette said, passing a hand over her neck, "I was pretty smitten with you, even back then, and I decided that night that I was going to write you a love letter."

"A love letter?" Elsa's eyes gleamed with curiosity and excitement. She pointed. "Is that the love letter?"

"Yes, this is that letter," Odette said sheepishly.

"Why has it taken you more than half a year to show it to me?" Elsa said, jokingly. She smiled, and reached towards it.

Odette didn't hand it to her, not just yet. "I didn't give it to you yet because we definitely weren't in a place where it would… make sense, at least not yet. But I think that we might be at that place now."

After all, they were girlfriends now. They had been for a little while. It was as 'official' as it was going to get, at least while Elsa remained such an object of public scrutiny.

Elsa realized that this was a very serious letter. "Well, I'm excited to see what you've wanted to say to me all these months."

She accepted the letter from Novare delicately. It was something of great importance.

"Would you like me to read it here, with you in the room?"

Odette thought for a moment, and then nodded.

Elsa smiled and unfolded the letter. She had been expecting something long. She'd been expecting something that read like one of the well-reasoned essays that had catapulted Odette Marie Novare into a position to be recommended to the queen's board of advisors at such a young age in the first place.

There were only three words on the paper, short and beautiful and poignant.

Elsa's eyes blurred with tears before she could think, and she laugh-sobbed once. She set the letter down and pulled Odette into a hard embrace, tucking her head into Odette's hair and whispering her reply.

"I love you too."

The End

of Love Letter


End file.
